The Prima Donna's Daughter
by Allanna Stone
Summary: What if Carlotta had a daughter who was the extact opposite of her? Let's find out.
1. Chapter 1

**The Prima Donna's Daughter**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, or Jackie Evancho.**

**SUMMERY:**

**What if Carlotta had a daughter who was the extact opposite of her? Let's find out.**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**Many thank yous to my good friend, Angel Rose, for proofreading my fanfictions!**

Little Genoveva first met the nortoriuos phantom of the opera when she was three years old.

She was exploring backstage, enjoying poking and prodding amungst the old props used for past shows when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw a man in black with a white mask covering half of his face.

Little Genoveva, not knowing any better, toddled up to him and held her arms up to let him know that she wanted to be picked up and cuddled. The man looked surprised for a minute before complying to the young girl's silent demands.

"Hello, what are you doing here?" he asked her quietly. Little Genoveva rested her head upon his shoulder and fell asleep, her head of red curls nestled safely on the man's chest.

Little did Little Genovena know what the man was planning.

It wasn't until later, when she woke up did she realize what had happened while she was with the man.

A small fire had started in her mother's dressing room. No one was hurt, but everything was destroyed. Her mother was absolutely livid as she threatened to take her voice elsewhere. But Monsire LeFeare was able to mollify her with promises of better things for her new dressing room.

The prima donna only calmed down when Little Genoveva pulled on her mother's skirts and held her arms up to be held. Varlotta's face melted as she bent down to scoop up the joy and light of her life.

"And where have you been, Little Genoveva?" Cralotta asked her daughter with a playful finger to the nose.

"It's a secret," mumbled the three year old girl, wondering why the man wore a mask. Maybe he was disguising himself!

"Mama," murmured Little Genoveva, falling asleep angain in her mother's arms.

"Rest now, my little star," crooned Carlotta, now completely calm, to the manager's surprise. "I do belive that it is time for your bedtime."

~oOo~

And for fourteen years, Genoveva didn't see the man who wore the strange mask again.

Until she was sitting in on one of her mother's rehearsals, with her ears plugged with cotton and a good book in front of her nose. She simply couldn't understand how her mother was such an awful singer, but how she had the voice of an angel herself.

She smiled grimly as she lost herself in the world of dragons, knights in shining armor, and sorcerers who would cast magical spells on young, defenceless princesses, turning her into a frog or an ugly old hag, doomed to live their lives in their trapped form unless they found someone who would love them as they were.

Genoveva hated these kinds of stories with a fiery passion. For once, she dearly wished that there was a book with brave princess and female knights in shining armor, not this nonsence about needing someone to rescue the fair maiden. Genoveva was sure that there were other people out there who all wished the same thing.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to noticed that, once again, she wasn't alone.

Until a leather gloved hand covered her mouth, muffling her screams, she spun around to see who it was and gasped in fright.

It was the nortorious phantom of the opera!


	2. Chapter 2

**The Prima Donna's Daughter**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, or Jackie Evancho.**

**SUMMERY:**

**What if Carlotta had a daughter who was the extact opposite of her? Let's find out.**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**Many thank yous to my good friend, Angel Rose, for proofreading my fanfictions!**

At the very moment Little Genoveva's eyes were captured by the phantom's presence, chaos errupted onstage as several of the backdrops fell from their riggings on crashed onto the stage.

"_**MAMA!**_" shrieked Little Genoveva, wiggling free of the phantom's hold on her as she dashed from her spot in box five to the stage, where Carlotta was busy pitching another one of her infamous tantrums.

"For as long as I have been here, these accidents have almost taken my life! You're just lucky that my daughter enjoys this pathetic opera house other wise I would be leaving and taking my voice elsewhere!" screamed the prima donna dramatically.

"Mother, it was the phantom! I saw him!" screamed Little Genoveva, running onstage and hiding herself in her mother's full skirts.

"Oh, my darling, are you alright?" crooned the woman who had overspent her voice.

"I think so," mumbled the seventeen year old girl, looking up at her mother with tear rimmed eyes. "Mother, I don't think he likes your voice,"

"Oh, is that so, my little Genoveva?" asked Carlotta, playfully fingering her only child's nose.

"I can do better," smirked the confident girl, folding her arms in front of her chest before walking center stage and begining to belt out the most beautiful aria that anyone had ever heard.

"_O mio babbino caro  
Mi piace è bello, bello  
Vo'andare in Porta Rossa  
A comparar l'anello  
Sì, sì, ci voglio andare_

_E se l'amassi indarno  
Andrei sul Ponte Vecchio  
Ma per buttarmi in Arno  
Mi struggo e mi tormento  
O Dio, vorrei morir  
Babbo, pietà, pietà  
Babbo, pietà, pietà"_

Carlotta looked at her daughter with a mixture of envy and love written on her face as Little Genoveva was swept into a crowd of admirers and ballet girls who all lavishly praised her voice. The former prima donna smiled as she swept up to stand next to her young daughter.

"Heaven is missing an angel," she commented, hugging her daughter close to her bosom as she continued to sing praises of her only child's mavelous voice. "Genoveva, you shall take my place in tonight's show. I feel as though I'm beoming ill," swooned Carlotta, winking down at her daughter, who squealed with exciememnt.

~oOo~

Erik coudn't believe it.

Carlotta's daughter had the voice of an angel. And she had sang the aria with the skill and ease of someone who had been in training for many, many years.

Erik knew that Genoveva had never even had a voice lesson.

So, imagine his surprise when he heard the young saprano chanlenge her mother. He thought that he would be hearing a miniture version of Carlotta's God awful voice.

But this wasn't the case.

Not this time, anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Prima Donna's Daughter**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, or Jackie Evancho.**

**SUMMERY:**

**What if Carlotta had a daughter who was the extact opposite of her? Let's find out.**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**Many thank yous to my good friend, Angel Rose, for proofreading my fanfictions!**

Later that night, after Little Genoveva had made her big debute onstage, she could be found in her mother's dressing room, getting ready for dinner with the managers and the patrons.

Suddenly, all the candles flickered out in the room, leaving the young saprano in darkness. She swore quietly as she fumbled to light a match and relight one of the candles. But before she could do so, a light caught her from the corner of her eye. She turned her head and gasped loudly, backing up to the door, where she fumbled to fling open the door. To her disbelief, the door was locked, leaving her trapped in the room with the opera ghost.

She fearfully turned towards the man, who was looking at her though her mirror and gulped quietly as she hestitantly approached him, keeping her eyes open for any tricks that he might have up his sleeves.

"You were magnificent up there, my dear."

Oh Lord.

His voice was beautiful!

His voice wrapped around Genoveva and brought her closer to him, hypotizing her as she stepped closer to him, forgetting that she was wearing only a silk nightgown and a lace robe over it. Her feet were bare as she stepped silently towards the phantom, her face showing a wide mixture of emotions; distrust, curisoty,wonder and admeration.

Finally, she was close enough so that they would be touching as he took her hand and began to lead her into a dark tunnel. They both were silent as the tunnel wound downwards into the catacombs of the opera house. Genoveva found herself wondering what laid underneath the phantom's mask.

But one thing was for sure.

The phantom was a man.

A devilishly clever man, but a man nonetheless.

As they approached a bend, the sharp whinny of a horse was heard. Genoveva broke away from the phantom and raced ahead, halting as the most maginificent horse she had ever seen met her eyes.

She just stood there, taking in the sight of the beast until the phantom was behind her. He scooped her up into his strong arms and settled her onto the horse's back.

Genoveva squeaked and held onto the horse with her legs and hands as the beast lumbered forward at the phantom's touch. She looked between the horse's ears and saw the phantom was looking back at her every few seconds, making sure that she was alright.

Genoveva was both flattered and scared as of to why the phantom of the opera was showing an interest in her, of all people. She wondered what all she had done to deserve his attention. As far as she had known, she hadn;t foiled any of his pranks...

... except by being with her mother most of the time, except when she was at dance lessons with the Girys. True, Carlotta wasn't the best singer, but she was certain that the harmless pranks that he played on the tempermental prima donna were just for his amusement.

Genoveva was pulled from her thoughts by the feeling of leather gloves hrabbing her by her slim waist. She squeaked and twisted, only to find that the phantom had lifted her from the horse and had placed her onto her feet once more. She thought about running, but as she saw him stabling the horse, she suddenly realized that if he had wanted to hurt her, then he would've done so already.

Then why had he brought her deep within the secret underground of the opera house?


	4. Chapter 4

**The Prima Donna's Daughter**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, or Jackie Evancho.**

**SUMMERY:**

**What if Carlotta had a daughter who was the extact opposite of her? Let's find out.**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**Many thank yous to my good friend, Angel Rose, for proofreading my fanfictions!**

Soon, the silent duo reached a gate, which opened to admit the small candlit boat. Genoveva gazed about her in wonder at the phantom's home. It was dark, yes; the only lights were by candles. But there were also other treasures- a living replica of the opera house with finely made little dolls acting as the people who worked there, an organ with sheet music strew across the top, and several open doorways that led to places unknown.

Genoveva was captivated by the man who had brought her down here, even though she feared him, she couldn't help but pity him and understand his loniness in this cruek wrld. Even though she had lived in the lap of luxery her entire life and had all kinds of pretty things to amuse her with, she still felt disconneted from the world.

"Why did you bring me here?" boldly asked Genoveva, trying to be brave, but her voice squeaked and cracked, her voice faltering as she tried to be strong.

The phantom turned to face her.

"Because you're voice is nothing like your mother's," was all that he said before turning to his organ and searching for something. He found a sheet of parchment paper and handed it to her. "Sing."

"I can't read music," apologized Genoveva, dropping the small bundle of parchment papers to the ground before turning to the lake, where she removed her slippers and sat at the edge of the water, sangling her feet into the cool waters.

The phantom jumped up with a loud roar and stalked over to where she was cowering. "Then how did you ever learn to sing?" he growled.

"I listen to the music," answered Genoveva rather nervously, watching as the phantom stalked to his organ and played a key. "A minor." He went up a few keys. "C flat."

And so they did this for about an hour before the phantom brought her sheet music and began to teach her what the odd symbols meant.

"Do ri me so fa la ti do," sang Genoveva sweetly, her voice rising with each key.

"Good," praised the phantom, turning to scrible down something. Genoveva found herself wondering what lied behind his mask. She snuck up behind him, but before she could unmask him, he turned around. Genoveva was shocked to see how close their faces were. She turned away, unsure of what she was going to do. If she dared to unask him, then he would be furious with her!

The phantom cleared his throat as he handed her a peice of paper with little notes written about.

"Practice all that we went over today, and I shall fetch you when it is time for your next lesson," he gruffly informed her, standing up suddenly and taking her by her hand. "But now, we should return. Those two fools who run my theater will be missing you."


	5. Chapter 5

**The Prima Donna's Daughter**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, or Jackie Evancho.**

**SUMMERY:**

**What if Carlotta had a daughter who was the extact opposite of her? Let's find out.**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**Many thank yous to my good friend, Angel Rose, for proofreading my fanfictions!**

Genoveva smiled as she sang her heart out in the underground caves that the unpreditible phantom of the opera lived in. She had been taking lessons from him for about three months now, and she outshone her mother in every which way possible.

Except for one small problem.

When Genoveva went to perfrom on stage for the second time, she became paralized with fear, rooting her to the stage and causing for her to delevope terrible stage fright. She told the phantom that all the money in the world couldn't make her ever go back up onto a stage again.

To the phantom's disgust, Carlotta siezed the oppertunity and stepped up to take her daughter's place once more.

More and more mysterious accidents happened, all of them geared towards the pampered prima donna. Genoveva didn't think anything of them, except that the managers should sack the drunk fool, Joseph Buquet.

Until one day when she could be found in the rafters, escaping her mother's horrid voice with cotton jammed into her ears.

She looked up and froze as she saw the phantom- her teacher of music- sabataging several of the sandbags.

"Stop that!" Genoveva shouted, standing and rushing the dangerous man. No one, by God, was allowed to harm her mother!

The phantom whirled around at her cry and the next thing that Genoveva knew was that she was falling...

Falling...

Falling...

Falling towards the stage floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Prima Donna's Daughter**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, or Jackie Evancho.**

**SUMMERY:**

**What if Carlotta had a daughter who was the extact opposite of her? Let's find out.**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**Many thank yous to my good friend, Angel Rose, for proofreading my fanfictions!**

The next thing that seventeen year old Genovea knew was that she was laying on a bed with organ music floating into her head. She ran her hand over the silk sheets, frowning as her vision cleared.

She was once more in the phantom's domain.

Genovea felt a shiver run down her spine as she swung her legs from the bed and stood. She immediately saw the pahntom, busy at work on one of his many operas. He turned as the rustling of her skirts sounded out from behind him. His stern expression softened at the sight of his pupil, wide awake and looking at him with wary eyes.

"Come."

The one word, filled with so much compassion and power was what moved Genovea towards him. She stood before him in her innocent glory as he reached out a hand to her cheek.

"I am working on an opera," he announced as though it was something new. Genovea didn't say anything; she just stared at him with her emerald green eyes. Her dark red curls had sprung loose of their updo, sending little curls flying into her long lashed eyes. The ahntom's hand went from her cheek to her chin. "It is about a Czech legend, about a beautiful water creture named Rusalka."

Genovea seemed to hold little interest, instead choosing to lean into the phantom's hand more, her plump breasts pressing against his back. The phantom turned around slowly and noticed that Genovea's hands were clenched as though she wanted to grab onto him.

The phantom guided her hands onto his shoulders where she stepped so that was her body was inbetween his legs. A nervous sigh escaped her lips as she brought her gentle hand down onto his crouch.

The phantom's mind went blank at this amazing sensation that was flooding his mind. He could feel his hips bucking up to meet his pupil's touch, which was both as light as a feather and as hard as diamonds.

"Have you ever..." Genovea asked, a deep red tinting her cheeks as she tried to say what what on her mind.

"Every now and then," grunted the phantom, groaning as her tiny hand continued to pet and love his hardened manhood. Fiannly, he could take no more.

With a poccessive growl, he scooped Genovea into his arms and carried her to his bed. Genovea squeaked and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his neck as he gently laid her down onto the soft fabric.

The phantom growled again as Genovea knelt on the bed, her slender, nimble fingers dancing over the buttons of her dress. Once it was unfashioned, she allowed for the phantom to drag it off her body. Once that was done, the phantom realized that she wasn't wearing anything under her dress, aside from drawars and a chemsis. Just as he was above to remove her undergarnment, Genovea pulled him onto the bed and loomed over him, her perky nipples jutting against her chemsis. The phantom reached up and cupped a perfectly formed breast, causing for Genovea to moan, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. She fell onto the matteress, her body limp with pleasure as the phantom's gloved hands ran over her body. It wasn't until she felt the cold air nipping at her womanhood did she realize that he had actually removed her undergarnments.

Now mind you, the phantom had read everything that he could about sexal intercourse (all he could find) and had watched when people would do this (whenever he was awarded the oppertunity). On the conterary, the phantom was just a man with manly needs, only because of his face (which Genovea had yet to see) he wouldn't satify himself with a paid whore. He had higher standerds than that.

"Come here," he ordered roughly, sliding backwards off the bed and kneeling on the floor, guiding her hips towards him. He hesitated before boldly kissing her soaking core. Genovea yelped loudly as he did what he had only dreampt of doing (but had never done before). She collapsed onto the bed with a loud cry as he kissed her between the legs.

"Oh... oh... oh!" Her tiny sounds of pleasure were what egged the phantom onward as he continued to explore her with his tongue. She tasted like an exotic flower with spices- rather delicious. And her cries were so erotic, whimpering, spreading her legs father apart to allow him more access to her private parts, her toes flexing and her entire body shaking tense. Fainted with his power over the daughter of his worst nightmare, the phantom braced her hips as she bucked and strained towards him. He sucked her sensitive nubbling with his lips, very gently and lovingly. Genovea cried out as she reached her peak, emptying herself as her entire body arched, as though she would levitate off the bed.

The phantom sat back on his heels as he wiped his chin with the sleave of his shirt- she had surprised him with the amount of liquids that her body could hold, and he had enjoyed every second of it. He kissed her inner thigh before standing from his crouch. He crotch was throbbing with pain as he groaned loudly. Immediately, Genovea was hovering over his clothed body, her hands working at his shirt. Within seconds, his chest was bare, showing the young saprano his musuclar chest and stomach. She couldn't help herself as she traced the firm muscles that made up his stomach. The phantom sighed before jumping when he felt Genovea's hand on his manhood once more.

The phantom swore as Genovea unbuttoned his trousers, silently asking for him to raise his hips, which he did do. It wasn't until she had tossed the artical of clothing away did she notice the size of the penis. It was at least fourteen inches long and it was quivering with excitement at the idea of her mouth wrapping around it.

Genovea gulped before touching the two round balls that were at the bottom of his manhood. She recoiled when he jumped, moaning loudly, his hips arching up mindlessly to meet her cool, gentle touch.

She would be the death of him, he knew it.

"Like this?" she whispered, planting a soft kiss onto the tip of his penis. The phantom groaned and Genovea grinned, happy that she had accompished something.

"Harder," ordered the phantom, grabbing onto the sheets with his fists.

"Tell me if I'm doing it wrong," said Genovea, her mouth raining kisses onto the erect penis.

"The only thing that you're doing wrong is not touching me!" growled the phantom, pushed her mouth onto his penis.

Genovea's green eyes widened before she began to suckle at his manhood. The phantom groaned loudly, his hands gently brushing her dark red curls from her face. Genovea conutinued the deed, finally her mouth was full of a liqud that tasted odd, but intoxicating addictive.

"Oh!" Her eyes went huge and round, her cry muffled from the object in her mouth, whcih twitched and gave her another squirt for her pains. After she swallowed, she found herself underneath the phantom as he prepaired her for his penitraition. With a swift movement, the phantom had sheathed himself into her tight, virginal opening. Genovea screamed out in pain as her body adjusted itself to the new sensation that she had just discovered. Once the pain had vanished, she was left with feeling pure pleasure.

She rocked her hips up to meet the phantom's, and he began to pump in and out of her, slowly at first, but gradually speeding up until he was banging his hips into hers with enough force to generate bruising.

Finally, after what seemed to be only hours of grunting and thrusting, they both climaxed, yelling loudly as their seeds spilled out of them and staining the bedsheets. The phantom collapsed onto the bed with Genovea nestled onto his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close to him as he blew out the lone candle that illuniated the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Prima Donna's Daughter**

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, Love Never Dies, or Jackie Evancho.**

**SUMMERY:**

**What if Carlotta had a daughter who was the extact opposite of her? Let's find out.**

**A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:**

**Many thank yous to my good friend, Angel Rose, for proofreading my fanfictions!**

The phantom sighed heavily as he looked over a new compoed song that he had wrote after he took Genovea back to her room earlier that morning. He smiled faintly as he recalled the night before, when she had willingly given up her virginity to him, no strings attached.

He growled as his trousers tightened uncomforatbly for the dozenth time that morning. He slapped his quill down angirly; he wouldn't be able to do anything else until he released himself.

Why were men cursed with such an insterment?

He placed his ungloved hand over his manhood, groaning loudly as his nimble fingers unbuttoned his trousers. As he took his engorged flesh into his hands, he asentmindedly traced the veins that decorated the penis. He folded his hand around it and began to massage it roughly, letting his head fall back and allowing for memories of the night before to spring into mind.

His strokes became faster as he quickly neared his climax. Breathing heavily, he all but tore his trousers apart as he dug out his handkerchief and placed it strategically over the tip of his penis before his released himself with a loud moan.

As he disposed of the evidence and readied himself to venture out once more, he caught a look of himself in one of the many mirrors that decorated his lair. He frowned as he noticed a red mark on his neck. Stepping forwards, he poked his collar away to see that it was a love bite.

The phantom smiled.

Genovea had marked him as hers.

~oOo~

Six months later, the phantom and Genovea were (un)offically lovers.

The (un) part was because no one knew where Genovea would go after she had retired for the evening. And to be quite honest with you, Carlotta couldn't care any less.

The phantom continued to prank the former prima donna (but now he just stole stuff from her and dropped it during practice, as Genovea had begged him to do). Even though the young soprano wouldn't tell the phantom this, she loved her mother very much, terrible voice and all. But the phantom could see this in the way that mother and daughter acted whenever together, wheather in public or alone. Carlotta had a habit of braid her daughter's hair into tiny pleats and rubbing her back while they talked about random things not related to the opera. The phantom was beginning to see that Carlotta was indeed human and not some demon siren sent from hell.

But he had Genovea to thank for that, for whenever Carlotta was around her only child, then the toad would become humanized (even if the phantom didn't want to admit it).

He had been secretly training Genovea to take over for her mother in _Il Muto_ by teaching her the songs. He had only told her that he thought it would be fitting to learn about the opera that the two (idiot) new managers would be putting on.

Little did Genovea know what all the phantom had up his sleaves...


End file.
